A Nickel's Worth of Free Accounting
by RoninJedi
Summary: To be honest, I have no idea how this will go. Just sat down and started typing. Right now, Mr. Krabs takes the advice of his accountant and it puts him into Shady Shoals, giving Plankton a glaring window of opportunity. What happens next? Even I don't know! Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

***Author's note – I won't even pretend to have a grand scheme in mind for this story. I had some time to kill, so I killed it. We'll see where it goes from here together! Please R&R, and tell your friends!***

The sun sat somewhere off-screen above the island above Bikini Bottom, shining brightly through the cloudless sky. A strange voice – an exaggerated French accent, in fact, with a rather strange inflection – suddenly sounded from nowhere.

"It ees a nuzer beeyooteeful day ova Bikini Bottam. Ze sea, she ees so peacefel, so majesteek, so…wet."

The view shifts downward and things begin to look odd, obvious shapes in the three-dimensional world suddenly lose their depth and quickly morphing until they seem formed of lines drawn on a page.

"Owa stowee begeens on a vewee wegula day, in a vewee wegula pineapple, with a vewee…well…wiz a mostlee wegula citizen."

_HHHHHOOOOONNNNNKKKKK!_

_HHHHHOOOOONNNNNKKKKK!_

_HHHHHOOOOONNNNNKKKKK!_

A single yellow finger reached up to press the red button at the base of the blow horn on the alarm clock, the noise stopping abruptly in the mid-_honk_. Spongebob Squarepants snapped his eyes open, already smiling so wide one could nearly see through his head. He glanced to the floor next to the bed.

"Morning, Garebear!"

Gary The Snail _(yes, of cors zat ees his fuul name, seely)_ was tucked snuggly inside his shell, offering only a muffled, "Meow," in greeting.

"Don't be like that Gary," Spongebob said. "It's a brand new day! A day full of endless…" the mattress suddenly sprang forward, catapulting the Porifera _(What? Yoo didant zink I neew zat wurd? Loook eet upp!)_ across the room and into a wall.

"…possibilities," he finished, his voice muffled due to his face being somewhat flattened.

"Meow," Gary answered dryly. The mollusk revealed his snout and eyeballs as they appeared from beneath his shell with a soft _pop_.

Spongebob had slid down the wall and expanded himself to his normal…well…self, by the time Gary slithered over next to him. "Meow?"

Spongebob tapped his chin with one finger in contemplation as he spoke. "Well I don't know. That whole "Close Down The Krusty Krab Once A Week To Save Utility Costs But Maybe Not Because We're Also Losing Money Because We're Not Selling Any Krabby Patties But Maybe The Savings Will Save More Money Than The Selling Will Make Because My Accountant Said So" thing still has Mr. Krabs feeling a little loopy. Maybe we'll stop in and see how he's doing. Besides," Spongebob dug furiously into one of the pores on the side of his head…or maybe it was his ear…I can never really tell…and drew out a small, sparkling coin. "I found this nickel underneath the refrigerator yesterday and I've been meaning to give it to him. Maybe it will cheer him up."

Gary snarled sarcastically. "Meow, meow, meeeoww."

Spongebob looked confused. "Stick it where? I don't know, Gary, I don't think coin currency can double as toilet paper."

"Meow," came the frustrated reply, and Gary turned around and slithered back over to his newspaper bed.

"Fine then, you old fuddy-duddy," Spongebob said. "I'll just go see Mr. Krabs myself!"

With that, Spongebob turned up his nose, closed his eyes, and turned to march away defiantly; right out his bedroom door and to the flight of stairs which he promptly misjudged and tumbled down.

"Ow! Oh! Ouch! Ah! Ooh! Ow!" His shouts filled the pineapple with each collision of sponge and step, and the fiasco ended with Spongebob face-first on the floor. "I guess I showed him," he said softly. He got to his feet and shook himself back to form.

He made his way to the front door, grabbed the handle firmly, twisted, and suddenly realized he was still only wearing his underwear. "Oh!" he shouted, covering himself quickly, his yellow cheeks suddenly flushed with a red hue. "That could've been terrible!"

He dashed up the stairs, leaving a puff of smoke on the ground floor of his home. Gary still sat on his newspaper bed, staring at Spongebob with a mocking grin. Spongebob straightened himself proudly.

"Don't bother, Gary. This does not make what I said earlier any less noble or any less praise-worthy."

"Meow, meeooww," Gary muttered, rolling his eyes.

Within seconds, Spongebob was dressed and standing back downstairs, just in time to see the aforementioned puff of smoke dissipate. "Okay!" Spongebob said cheerfully to himself. "I'm ready!" With that, he burst through the front door, bounding gleefully down the street, shouting, "I'm ready! Shiny nickel! I'm ready! Shiny nickel!"

Patrick's rock bolted upward just as Spongebob passed, revealing his best friend sticking to the bottom of the rock in typical sea star fashion. "Hey, Spongebob!"

Spongebob stopped in his tracks, offering an enthusiastic wave. "Hi, Patrick!"

Patrick reached up to return the wave, and promptly fell from the rock and crashed into the floor of his home with a great _THWACK!_ Spongebob ran over to the edge of the large hole which served as Patrick's house and peered into the depression. "Pat? You okay?"

Patrick popped up, his eyes facing different directions and his front teeth crossed. "I think I should invest in a brand of fastening tape which consists of opposing pieces of fabric that interlock when pressed together, and is used as a closure on garments, luggage, etcetera."

"You mean Velcro?"

"Gesundheit."

Spongebob arched his brow in confusion.

"Oh, I remember!" Patrick said proudly. "I wanted to ask you, what are you doing with a whiney pickle?"

"No, Patrick," Spongebob said, shaking his head. "A _shiny nickel_. I'm going to go see Mr. Krabs at Shady Shoals and see how he's feeling."

"Oh! Oh! Can I come? I love old people!"

Spongebob thought for a minute. Mr. Krabs may not be in the mood for company, and he didn't understand Patrick the way Spongebob did. But maybe it would be okay. Pat was his best friend! How could he not include him?

"Sure, Pat. Come on."

Yay!"

Patrick climbed out of the hole, dusted himself off, and with a great wink to Spongebob, the two friends began skipping down the road. Their combined shouts of, "I'm ready! Shiny nickel!" filled the morning air, although an occasional "Whiney pickle!" rang out, as well.

As they made their merry way along the road, neither of them noticed the eyeball at the end of a telescope the size of a house hovering above them.

"Those fools! Look at them skipping and laughing and chanting. They have no idea what they have just provided me with."

The enormous telescope withdrew, making its way quickly across thousands of feet of the city, weaving around buildings, through car windows, and under people sitting on park benches before finally returning to its starting point and retracting into the decrepit shell of the Chum Bucket.

In his laboratory, Plankton released the telescope's controls, and rubbed his stubby hands together as he smiled in evil satisfaction. "With that fool Krabs in the loony bin, my chance has finally arrived! The Krabby Patty formula will be mine for the taking!"

At that moment, the rusted double doors of his lab burst open with a loud groan, and Karen rolled into the room. "Just how are you planning to ruin your self-esteem this time?" she said among a cacophony of beeps and clicks.

"Oh Karen, my computer wife," Plankton said, walking to a small platform on the edge of the table, activating the small lift so that it rose him enough that he could look her in her eyes….er….monitor. "You're such a ray of sunshine," he said dryly. "Don't worry, I've got it all figured out."

Digitized eyeballs, complete with brows, appeared on the monitor. As Plankton's wife spoke, the eyes rolled. "Oh, do tell."

"Simple," he said, wrapping himself in a layer of reassuring pride. "Krabs isn't thinking straight right now. And if an old friend were to potentially make an offer to run the Krusty Krab one day a week with…let's call it "borrowed electricity", that crustaceous cheapskate would be inclined to agree."

"You really think that'll work?"

"Please, I've known Krabs our whole lives. Shutting down the Krusty Krab just one day a week is costing him money left and right. And he knows it!"

Karen rolled closer. "And just how do **you** know that?"

Plankton smiled from ear to ear. "Who do you think runs the firm Krabs got his pro-bono accountant from?"

Karen said nothing for a moment. It caused her a bit of displeasure, but she had to be honest. "Sometimes, Plankton, I think you really are a brilliant man."

"Oh, come on," Plankton said, blushing. "Don't flatter me."

A rather awkward silence settled over the pair.

"Are you going to flatter me or not?"

Karen's digital eyes rolled once more.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a beautiful day in Bikini Bottom, and several residents of Shady Shoals were outside enjoying the view. Some were in wheelchairs, others taking a stroll with their walkers, and one particular gentleman was lying on a picnic blanket convulsing rather violently.

Spongebob and Patrick came strolling up the walk joyfully. No one paid them much attention as they entered the front doors of the establishment.

The lobby was empty, except for one lone receptionist seated at the front desk. Her eyes were glued to a small television, tears already welling up as the voices from the show she watched echoed through the room.

"Oh, Marla. I couldn't afford to get you a present for our anniversary this year. So I got you this box."

"Oh, Alfred! I got you a box, too!"

Tears began to stream down the receptionist's face, and she whispered to herself, "So romantic."

"Excuse me, miss."

Spongebob's voice startled her, and she quickly straightened herself, wiping her eyes and clearing her throat. "How can I help you, sir?"

"We're giving Mr. Krabs a pickle!" Patrick shouted right in the woman's face.

"Um…" she hesitated. "Are you a patient?"

"No, we're visitors," Spongebob said, shooting Patrick a "Please Be Quiet" look. "We're here to see Mr. Eugene Krabs."

The woman's eyes grew wide. "Are you sure?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Spongebob asked.

"No reason." The receptionist responded very quickly. "He's on the third floor, room 313."

"Thank you," Spongebob said, turning to walk away.

Patrick stepped toward the receptionist, rubbing his chin in thought. "I'll have a turkey sandwich on rye, some curly fries, and an apple pie. Oh, and a large orange soda!"

"I'm sorry?"

"That's okay," Patrick said. "Can I get that to go?"

Spongebob grabbed Patrick's arm and pulled him away from the front desk, regretting for just a moment that he had let him tag along. "Come on, Pat," Spongebob pleaded as he pressed the "Up" button for the elevator. "I need you to stay focused."

"I can't focus when I'm hungry, Spongebob," Patrick whined. "I haven't eaten since I had that large pepperoni pizza right before we left."

Awkward silence.

"Pat, that was fifteen minutes ago."

Patrick crossed his arms. "Well excuse me for fueling my body!" he snapped.

The elevator _dinged_ and the doors slid open. The pair stepped inside.

"Fine," Spongebob said. "We'll just go back to my house when we leave. I think I've still got a couple of Krabby Patties in the fridge."

After a few seconds, the elevator doors slid open once again, and Spongebob and Patrick stepped into the third floor corridor.

It was a brilliant, beautifully clean hallway, not a speck of dust to be found. The lights overhead shone brilliantly, causing little sparkles here and there along the spotless tile floor. It was also deathly quiet. There were no mechanical chirps or beeps, no voices coming from the half-dozen rooms lining the hall, no muffled television noise. It was as if the floor was deserted.

Spongebob shivered, but quickly shook it off. "Alright, Pat," he said. "Time to perk up Mr. Krabs."

They stepped into the hallway, walking briskly, the only sound was the squeak of Spongebob's shoes with each step, and the occasional disturbing growl of Patrick's stomach.

They rounded a corner and found a desk, similar to the one in the lobby, with a rather large man sitting there. As they got closer, Spongebob realized the man looked more like a guard than a receptionist; his fins bulged with rippling muscles, his eyes bright and alert, not to mention the nightstick, handcuffs, and large can of Sea-Bear Mace in his belt.

He quickly turned his gaze to the two visitors, and moved to intercept them as they were still several feet from the desk.

"State your business," he said firmly.

"I'm Spongebob Squarepants, and this is Patrick Star," Spongebob said weakly. "We're here to see Eugene Krabs. I work for him at the Krusty Krab and," tears suddenly welled up in Spongebob's eyes. "And…" they exploded like a geyser onto the guard as he wailed loudly. "IT JUST HASN'T BEEN THE SAME WITHOUT HIM!"

The wave of tears subsided, and the guard pulled a small hanky out of his pocket and silently wiped his face with it.

"Yeah…" he said, arching his brow. "Do you have anything on your person that could be used as a weapon?"

Patrick suddenly raised his hand and waved it frantically.

"Yes?" the guard asked.

"Is mayonnaise a weapon?"

The guard eyed him silently for several seconds. "No. Mayonnaise is not a weapon."

Patrick raised his hand again.

"Horse radish is not a weapon, either."

Patrick slowly put his hand down.

"Very well," the guard continued. "Do you have on your person any currency? Or anything that could be construed as currency? Or anything that could be construed as something that could be construed as currency?"

Spongebob paused, suddenly a little uneasy. "Yes, sir," he said, his voice shaky. "I wanted to cheer up Mr. Krabs, so," he pulled the nickel out of his pocket, "I brought him this shiny new…"

"PUT IT BACK! DON'T SAY IT!" The guard dove wildly to retrieve the coin from Spongebob's hand.

"…nickel."

Before Spongebob had even finished the last word, there was a thunderous banging sound coming from behind a door just at the end of the hall. Snarls, growls, and horrifying howls filled the tiny corridor, and Spongebob, Patrick, and the guard all shrank back in fear.

"I tried to tell you!" the guard screamed.

Through the small barred window in the door, Spongebob caught just a glimpse of a snarling red face, and a long crooked nose that sniffed the air frantically in between howls.

"MMMMMOOOOONNNNNEEEEEYYYYY!" the voice screamed so loud Spongebob's ears felt as if he had dipped them in hot fry grease.

"Good news, Spongebob," Patrick said. "It looks like Mr. Krabs is awake!"

The voice started shrieking like a possessed banshee, its ear-piercing cry filling the hall.

"MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY MONEY!"

"Get out of here! Now!" The guard scooped Spongebob into his right arm and took off running. As he passed Patrick, he reached to grab him with his left. There was a sound like paper tearing, followed by a loud _POP_, and the guard screaming. He stopped in his tracks, holding and empty socket were his left arm had been.

Patrick picked up the discarded limb and handed it to the guard, who took it with a blank expression, all the color drained from his face before he collapsed to the floor.

Patrick and Spongebob stared at the guard for a moment before Patrick spoke up. "Think we should give him a hand?"

A rim shot suddenly sounded.

"Gee, Pat, maybe we should come back later when Mr. Krabs is filling a little better."

"But I haven't got my turkey sandwich yet."


End file.
